Wounded Deeply
by Ariel119
Summary: He scared the hell out of her. Will it be the last time? Rated M for, well, you can guess, in chapters 5, 7,8,10,12,15,17,19. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi folks! Remember me? A little snippet of a scene popped into my head this morning, and I was compelled to try and develop it. I was partially motivated by the fact that despite my LONG absence, I'm still getting some new followers. So thank YOU, new folks, for renewing my faith in my writing ability.**_

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"Yo, Beckett. He's back…" Esposito watched the subtle flinch travel through Kate's body as his words invaded what was, no doubt, a very focused thought process. Alerting her to the return of her injured partner/boyfriend allowed her to prepare herself, at least a little.

Kate looked up. She'd wanted to go to the hospital with him, but since his wounds were not life threatening, procedure dictated that she accompany their perp back to the precinct. Waiver or no, there was paperwork to be done, charges to be filed, not the least of which was 'assault with a deadly weapon'. The scum was damned lucky Castle had dodged in front of the blade as it sliced toward her. 'Assault on a police officer' carried heavier jail time.

Of course, she was really the lucky one. No telling what damage the asshole would have done to her if Rick hadn't gotten in the way. Her eyes traveled his frame, taking in the sling on his arm, the slight hitch in his step.

She stood, but rather than crossing to welcome him, she gave him a brief nod and then retreated toward the break room. On her way past Esposito's desk, she murmured "Javi, can you-"

"Run interference with Gates? You got it," he reassured her.

Castle strode past, the strain of the effort showing in his face.

She was waiting just inside the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.

"What are you doing here? Didn't they tell you to go home and rest?" she demanded. An entirely different script was running through her head. 'Thank you. I'm glad you're ok. _Again."_

"You know I'm lousy at obeying orders. Besides, I needed to see you," he replied softly.

"You knew I was ok. You saw to that."

"Yes. I did. You're welcome, by the way," he teased. He studied her face. There was something off. Not that he was expecting a medal, but a statement like that should sound like gratitude, shouldn't it? But coming out of her, it sounded chilly, bordering on bitter. She was…was she _mad_ at him?

Her hands were clenching and unclenching. Part of her wanted to hit him, the other part wanted to kiss him senseless. Neither would be wise, on the off chance Gates was watching.

"Seriously, you should be home."

"I'm fine, Beckett, really."

Damn it all, was he being deliberately obtuse or was it just the trademark Castle stubbornness?

"Castle. Go. Home," she said firmly, letting just a hint of edge into her tone. She groaned internally at his expression. Kick a guy while he's down, huh Kate? Still, she pressed on. She had to make him understand.

"What you did was sheer _stupidity _and…and I…" She took a steadying breath. "I can't have that on my team." She schooled her face to mask her roiling emotions.

He hadn't seen that look on her face since _before. _ In his mind, their time together had two distinct eras, 'before' and 'after', the dividing line being the night she showed up at his door, soaking wet, the metaphorical wall merely rubble at their feet.

Oh no. Fuck, _no_. The wall was back, stronger than ever. He recognized it now. She was scared of losing him, so she was going to shut him out to protect herself, protect him, too. "No, _please_…" he began weakly, fear stealing the breath from his lungs.

She opened the door. "Espo?" she called.

He was at the threshold in seconds, inquiry in his eyes.

"Can you see to it that Castle gets into a cab ok? I'm sure it'll be tough for him to hail one with that arm the way it is."

"Beckett. Kate. Please. Don't _do_ this." He could hear the plaintive tone in his voice, could not bring himself to care that it sounded 'unmanly'. He'd be on his knees in a heartbeat if he thought it would help. But they were in a fishbowl, and the questions would be uncomfortable for her.

"C'mon, Bro. Let's get you home, get some rest."

He mulled over what she'd said. 'on my team' was not the same as 'in my life' was it? But the sentinel atop her wall shook its head at him.

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**That's it for right now. I'll do one more chapter at least, depending on how long the inspiration stays with me.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**WOW. Just wow. 38 followers in 16 hours. You guys ROCK. My writing was fueled by your enthusiasm, so here's another chapter.**_

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Castle swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Talk to you later?" he asked. She nodded, not meeting his eye. Well, at least it was something. The optimist in him refused to believe that after all they'd been through, THIS would be what broke them.

He trudged to the elevators, the ache in his hip growing now. The numbing shots were starting to wear off, and the sutures were making themselves known. It was a bizarre injury. When he'd thrown himself in front of her, enough self- preservation instincts kicked in to make him turn his body sideways, make himself a smaller target. The knife sliced his arm, nicking a tendon, thus the sling. As it continued downward, it also cut just below the belt.

Just after the doors closed, a pain in the back of his head made him forget all about knives and stitches. "Ow! What was THAT for?" he demanded of Esposito, who was just bringing his palm down.

"For being an idiot. What the hell were you thinking, getting between the perp and a cop with a _gun_?"

"I was _thinking_ I was getting between a knife and my partner."

Esposito scoffed. "Go repeat that to Beckett. I dare you. You'll wish the perp had put you in intensive care. She's no damsel in distress."

"Be that as it may, it's what we do. We protect one another, have since the beginning. We were _that_ kind of partner long before…" Castle caught himself before the phrase "the _other_ kind" slipped out. It was one thing for him to know they were together. Describing it was unnecessary unless he was trying to dig a deeper grave.

Respect filled the other man's eyes. "Very good. _That's_ the answer you give her when she asks. This was not some noble 'defending the woman you love' bullshit."

"What if she doesn't ask?" the writer retorted, desperately seeking reassurance. "What if she won't even have the conversation with me?"

"She will. I've known Kate longer than you have. If she's forgiven you for everything else, she'll forgive this too. However. If it had been Ryan and me, one of us would have been able to shoot the bastard. Now, it'll be a cold day in hell before Gates ever green-lights letting you out on the street armed. But maybe you want to think about developing some other skills, pair that fast brain with some muscle." Esposito flagged down a taxi as he uttered his last words.

Castle nodded his thanks and settled into the back seat, giving his address to the cabbie. He was going to need a little physical therapy for his arm, but once it was safe, he would seek out a martial arts trainer. He actually cursed himself for not thinking of it before. He _should_ bring the best skill set possible to their partnership. She deserved nothing less. And if, God forbid, she'd been distracted, worried about defending him, then after training he would prove himself to her, put her at ease, so that days like today didn't happen again.

Assuming, of course, she ever lets him near her again.

Kate lowered herself onto the break room couch, because her legs simply would not hold her up any longer. She rested her elbows on her knees and propped her head up, staring at the floor, processing, trying to hold it together. None too successfully, it seemed, as tears were dripping down her nose and onto the floor. A pair of men's black dress shoes appeared, stepping right in her tear puddle. A hand gently squeezed her shoulder.

"Beckett, you ok?" Ryan inquired in his best brotherly tone. She tried to sniffle as quietly as possible, but still, a snowy white cotton handkerchief dangled before her. She took it, dabbing at her face. Smudges of makeup soiled the linen. She looked at the spots, ready to apologize, when she noticed that one of them was a deep red color, which didn't match any of the makeup she'd worn that day. Oh God. Blood. _His_ blood. The tears flowed anew as she realized how _close_ this one had been.

"He's fine, though," Kevin reassured her, as if he could read her mind. "A little banged up, but he kinda deserved it for that dumb stunt."

Her head snapped up. Ryan smiled at the fire in her eyes. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Listen, take it from the old married dude. That cliché about not going to bed angry? Absolutely true. So talk to him, tonight. Put him on probation, if you need to. Hell, he's going to be benched anyway, it's like he created his own punishment." This last part was delivered cheerfully. He checked his watch. "Shift ends in an hour. Go clean up, finish the paperwork, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, tomorrow? Where are you going to be for the rest of today?"

"Down in holding, having a conversation with our perp about brandishing sharp objects at my friends!"

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_**That's all for now. Hopefully I'll have more in a day or two. Meanwhile, I LOVE feedback. (who doesn't?) If you like it enough to follow it, won't you PLEASE leave a review to tell me why?**_


	3. Chapter 3

Castle dropped wearily into the armchair in the living room of the loft. He massaged the bridge of his nose with his good hand. What an emotional roller coaster the day had been. They'd been searching the suspect's apartment when he just seemed to appear. Castle shouted a warning at Kate but he could already see she wouldn't be able to draw before the guy got to her. So he lunged. The relief that she was whole, coupled with the accompanying adrenaline rush, blocked all the pain at first. But then her eyes got wide, fearful. He looked down and saw the blood, and then he _felt _everything. She glanced at the suspect, needing to make sure the boys had him secured, before she came to her partner's side. "It's gonna be ok, Castle," she'd murmured, reassuring them both. "Jackie, radio down and get the medics up here, tell them to bring the gurney," she addressed a uniformed officer, her voice surprisingly steady.

They'd had to help him onto the portable bed because of the pain in his leg. Before they took him away, she'd given his arm a squeeze, the most affection they could safely display. At the hospital, he waited until the exam was complete and the nurse was gathering suture supplies before calling Mother to bring him a change of clothes. His were ruined. Even the WRITER vest was going to need to be fixed, the knife had sliced through one of the straps in its arc.

Then when he got back to the station…he shook his head. It all happened so quickly. He'd known they would have to maintain appearances, but she took it so _far_. Polite yet firm, distant. And then she'd kicked him out. There was some glimmer of hope, she'd agreed that they would talk. That was the only thing that had kept him from breaking down in the cab.

His eyelids drooped without his permission. The exertion , the blood loss, the emotional upheaval, it all drained him. He fished his phone from his pocket, hoping he'd somehow missed a call, a text, _something_ from Kate to prove that she did intend to talk to him further. The top bar of his screen offered no help. Well, she had told him to rest. Maybe, just this once, listening to her was his best move. He hauled himself out of the chair and made for his bedroom. On the way he stopped in the bathroom, filled a tumbler with water to swallow down one of the pain killers.

Collapsing on his bed, he took out his phone once more. "Please come over so that we can talk?" he typed. He considered the screen before hitting send. There. The ball was in her court. Sleep claimed him seconds later.

His next moment of semi-awareness came as he was rolling over in bed, or, rather, _trying_ to. The pain on the left side of his body made him yelp and quickly abandon any further plans to move. A shock of cold on his hip made him momentarily more alert, before the numbing sensation relieved the pain. He was tempted to sink back into the abyss, but the active part of his brain prodded at him to investigate the source of the blessed relief.

He pried one eye open, fully expecting to see a red haired angel, but which one? When he learned the actual identity of his caregiver, he nearly sat bolt upright in the bed. Kate placed a hand on his right shoulder, firmly holding him in place.

"Uh-uh. Trust me, you don't want to do that." Kate offered him a tiny, knowing smile as she gingerly slipped another ice pack beneath the sling on his arm.

"Kate."

"You were expecting someone else?" She raised a challenging eyebrow at him.

"Well, actually, I assumed Mother…."

"She let me in before she left for her studio. How are you doing?"

"Better now, by far. " He studied her face, waiting her out. Clearly the fact that she'd come as he'd asked was a positive sign.

"Castle, what you did today…" her voice faltered.

"I can't apologize for. I won't. At the funeral when you were…when you were shot…I saw the danger and I couldn't _get_ to you in time." Now his voice broke. He shrugged, then winced at the effort. "This time I could."

"Well, we _have_ established that you'll go incredibly far for the people you love."

He shook his head. Here was his chance. "It wasn't really about that. If one of the guys had been standing in your place, I'd have done the same thing. We're a team." Her words from the break room came back to him. "Or are we?"

Her lips pressed into a line. He saw her eyes travel over the sling and the bandages, saw her shudder. Every second she was silent, the ball of dread in his stomach grew. Finally she took a deep breath. "I'll tell you what. Let's see how your healing process goes."

"Oh, well in that case, I think I'm going to need a great deal of TLC, to get me back on my feet." He raised his hand to brush her cheek tenderly, then slid it to the back of her neck to pull her to him.

She allowed him to close the distance between them, but braced her arms on either side of him to keep her weight off his evidently-already-forgotten injuries. When their lips met, the floodgate of pent up emotion was strained almost to the breaking point. Gradually she pushed away, and a new set of aches plagued him. He put on his best pout.

"Save it, Castle. I've seen the discharge papers. No strenuous activity for two weeks. Doctor's orders."

"Will you at least stay with me? I might need help with the bandages." He glanced pointedly at his hip, then winked. "Besides, somebody has to keep me from rolling around and re-injuring myself."

With a begrudging chuckle, she nodded. She went to 'her' drawer and contemplated her options. She debated donning something sexy that would display what he would definitely NOT get to play with tonight. Like Ryan said, he kinda had it coming. "Aww, c'mon, Beckett, show a little mercy," Castle whined from the bed. It was spooky how he could read her sometimes. She relented and went with her yoga outfit, soft and comfortable, yet not suggestive. She washed up and got changed in the bathroom, further sparing him the torture. She helped him get up and slide under the covers, then slipped in beside him, using his right shoulder as her pillow.

"Rick? I'm glad you're ok. Again."

"Me too, Kate. Me too."

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_**I've got at least one more chapter up my sleeve, maybe even two or more, if the interest continues... Please leave me a review?**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**OK so it took me a little longer than I'd hoped to nurture my seedling of an idea for this chapter into something that I hope is worth your time.**_

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"…n-no, No! Hold on… …you have to…please…don't go… …Rick…NOoooo." Castle was awakened by her moans, her head tossing on his shoulder. Nightmare. Damn.

"Kate, it's ok," he said softly. He stroked her back, trying to calm her. In the dim light of the alarm clock he could see her brows furrowed in pain. "C'mon, honey, wake up now. You're ok, I'm ok." He made his voice a little louder, squeezed her arm. "Beckett. _Please_, come out of this."

Kate cried out as she launched upright, as if physically wresting herself from the grip of the dream. She wiped her eyes with shaking hands. When she rested her palms back on the sheets, the smoothness of them caught her attention. Confused, she swiveled her head around, coming to meet his gaze. Relief flooded through her, and in its wake, euphoria. She leaned into him and kissed him feverishly. He returned her fervor, propping himself upright with his good arm. Eventually it tired and he eased backward onto the pillows, coaxing her with him.

At that point she remembered his restrictions. "Sorry," she whispered, guilt lacing her tone.

He eased away from her and twisted to touch the lamp on his bedside table. Soft light threw shadows around the room. He turned back to study her face, his brow furrowing. "What?" she asked, growing self-conscious under his scrutiny.

"I'm trying to figure out if you're apologizing for the nightmare or your… enthusiastic display of affection. Either way, you're being _ridiculous_." She blushed, avoiding his eyes.

"Do you want to talk about the dream?" he asked. She shrugged, so he continued. "I heard enough to make a pretty good guess. It was the apartment all over again, only this time it wasn't a flesh wound?"

"There was _so much blood. _I tried, I just couldn't…you got so pale. White, like the paper in your books, and then it was like you just blended in and disappeared." She looked so stricken, his heart twisted for her. When she opened her mouth to continue, he started to reach for her, before the sling halted his movements. He stroked her back soothingly with his other hand instead.

"Shhh. No more. I'm sorry I said anything." He cursed himself for making her relive it, damned his thirst for the story_. _ She sniffled quietly against his shoulder, and he mentally cast about for something, anything, to get her out of this frame of mind. Distraction seemed his best bet. "I don't think I can sleep right now…Oh, I know. Let me show you this awesome web series I've been following. It's a spoof on reality shows, you'll love it." She retrieved his laptop and, with his guidance, logged into the site. At first she scoffed at the ridiculousness of the premise, but eventually he called her out on her quiet snickering, evidence that she was actually enjoying herself.

"We should get some sleep," she said around a yawn. "Can I get one of your pain meds for you so that you're comfortable?" she asked.

He nodded, gratitude shining in his eyes. He marveled at this woman that was willing to tend to him, when twelve hours ago he wasn't certain if he'd ever see her again.

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A week after the incident, Castle followed up with his regular doctor. "This hip looks pretty good. I can take the stitches out, but you should still avoid…vigorous activity for another week. " Dr. Hannigan gave him a calculating look. "Rick. I know it kills you. I've seen your girlfriend, she's a beauty, and right now, you're thinking, the pain would be worth it. But _trust_ me. You'll be sorry."

The author subtly pouted until the doctor changed the subject. "Now, for your other injury, it should be no surprise that I'm ordering Physical Therapy. We'll have that arm comfortably working the typing fingers again in a few weeks."

The physical therapy sessions were, to say the least, not fun. Castle amused himself by finding a new synonym for 'miserable' every day to share with Alexis and Mother. He didn't dare share his vocabularic musings with Kate. She'd been there, done that, and far worse.

They'd fallen into a new rhythm during his recovery. She'd work, he would text her mid-day and get her thoughts about dinner, and it would be prepared by the time she arrived at the loft. One night a traffic delay had him meeting her in the lobby rather than at the loft door, so she volunteered to help cook the meal. Thoughtlessly he went on about the 'sadist' that was helping him recondition his arm. When he realized what he was saying he flinched, waiting to be cuffed upside the head and told to 'man-up'. When no such attitude adjustment was forthcoming, he sought her gaze. What he found tore at him. She had that haunted look again, and he could see everything she was thinking. 'You're only in this position because you put yourself in harms' way for me.'

He turned the burners down to low, then crossed to stand behind her, pinning her between the wall of his body and the cabinets. He began to drop kisses on the side of her neck, vowing to himself that he would do whatever it took to get that look off her face.

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_**Here's your fair warning, the next chapter goes to M. Review, pretty please?**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Oh my word, you guys are amazing. I posted right before I went to bed last night, and when I logged into my email upon waking, I literally rubbed my eyes, couldn't believe all of the reviews and follows and favorites. I was ecstatic, and very motivated to get another chapter out. So thanks to all of you who somehow let me know you're enjoying this.**_

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Kate felt the familiar shiver down her spine as his warm mouth played along the column of her neck. He moved her hair aside and worked a pressure point just below the base of her skull. Soft currents of breath played over her ear as he nibbled on the lobe. And his hands. _Oh_, his hands. How she'd missed them these last two weeks. They'd agreed that there was no such thing as 'light duty', that going halfway would only leave them impossibly frustrated, so they kept things platonic. For once, it seemed fortunate that they'd spent so much time not 'together', as it had built a strong foundation for their relationship. Talking, debating, and sharing favorite movies sped them through Castle's convalescence. Now, however, it seemed their hiatus was over, and she couldn't be happier.

His right hand came around to cup her breast, his thumb sliding back and forth repeatedly until he teased the nipple to a hard peak. He then squeezed and massaged the bundle of flesh and nerves (mostly nerves it seemed), until her hips began to shift restlessly. His left hand abandoned its task of teasing the curves of her ear so that it could move downward to her other breast. The right one sought new, southern territory, beneath the waistband of her slacks. It occurred to her to be embarrassed about the amount of moisture he was sure to find, that he'd gotten to her THAT easily. That notion lasted all of one second, until his appreciative chuckle sounded in her ear. His finger delved under her panties into her slick crevice. The low moan she'd been emitting was replaced with whimpers. Her senses began to overload on erotic input. The sight of his hands on her, his sexy murmurs of encouragement, his cologne teasing her nostrils, a tactile assault on three erogenous zones, it was all too much. She forgot what she was worrying about. Hell, she could barely remember how to _think_. When he sped his movements, increased the pressure, she flew apart with a sharp cry and was grateful that he was standing behind her to catch the pieces.

Rick gently withdrew his hands and used them to brace her shoulders. "Let me finish dinner so we can get some sustenance in us, before we continue this." She nodded faintly. When she stopped swaying he eased away, leaving her leaning on the counter. He washed his hands and finished cooking their meal, needing something to focus on besides the painful arousal he was feeling. Kate recovered enough to set the table, though he could swear he heard the dishes rattling from her shaky hands. They struggled not to rush, to give the savory food the attention it deserved. Finally though, she gave him a look nearly wicked enough to make him blush. "What?"

"I was just thinking…that whipped cream would go better with something else besides the mousse." She grabbed the can out of the refrigerator and headed toward his room. She spun to check his progress, squirting a dollop in her mouth teasingly. "Want some? You've got to come get it." Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she moved backward, her unerring sense of her surroundings allowing her to navigate without bumping a thing. She bit her lip as she watched him gain on her. When he caught up she offered him a shot of the cream, before picking up the pace and moving all the way to the bedside table. She set the can down and began a slow striptease, toying with the buttons on her blouse before she released them and let it slide to the floor. Rick caught her in his embrace, kissing her with all of the desperate need that flowed in his veins. She helped him out of his clothes and guided him onto the bed. She shimmied out of her slacks and lay down beside him, conducting an inventory of his most sensitive spots mostly using her tongue. Ears, neck, chest, each one elicited new noises from him. She kissed her way down to his shaft and began to work on him, drive him mad like he'd done to her in the kitchen. He grasped her arms and coaxed her back upward, smoothed his hands along her waist and hips to guide her to straddle him. When the heat of her had enveloped him, he let out a groan that ended with a sigh of relief. God he'd missed this, and let his thoughts travel briefly to the moment in the break room when he realized he might never have this again. Then she began to rock against him and thinking was no longer an option, only feeling was. She braced her palms on his chest, thumbs teasing both nipples simultaneously, and he nearly bucked her off him. They continued their dance of give and take until her movements became frenzied. Just seeing her like that atop him, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, was nearly enough to undo him. He gave her nipples a gentle pinch and she howled, inner muscles contracting around him. The chain reaction was instant, and he arched up into her in climax. When she quieted he guided her down, rolling both their trembling, sweating bodies so that they lay on their sides face to face, still joined. He kissed her with the utmost tenderness, then stroked her cheek reverently until her dark lashes lay upon it. "Love you," he whispered, cradling her to him and drifting off to sleep.

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The next day, Castle sent a text to Esposito. 'Would you mind swinging by the Old Haunt tonight? I'd like your feedback on some new Lagers I just got in.' He only had to wait a few minutes for an affirmative reply.

The olive skinned detective strode through the doors at 7, shucking his leather jacket and tossing it into the booth that Castle indicated. Rick carried over a tray with a row of small glasses, each filled with an amber liquid in a subtly different shade. He seated himself across from Esposito, who took a deliberate sip from the first glass on the tray.

After a swallow and a nod, Javier spoke. "Ok, bro, what's this really about?"

His directness made the author gape for just a second before recovering his composure. "What...makes you think it's about anything else?"

"You've owned this bar for two years and never asked me to be a taste tester before now… " Challenging brown eyes locked onto blue. "You looking for a report or something?"

"Something. I've given our conversation a great deal of thought, and I believe I've come up with the perfect solution." Castle drew a breath. "I want _you_ to train me." At the shake of the other man's head he forged on. "Now hear me out. You've got both combat hand-to-hand and academy training. You _know _what skills would make me a better partner. Javier. I _have_ to be better, for her. For…for all of you," he amended.

"All of us. Right."

Castle studied the table, watched the foam thinning on the tops of the beer samples. Finally he looked up again. "All right, you want it straight? Here it is. A world in which Kate Beckett is not walking around? It holds no interest for me. So yeah, I'll use the 'partner' party line, because how can I protect her if I'm not _near_ her?"

Esposito considered him, saw the near-pleading in his eyes, and sighed. A man _that_ in love with his partner, was he an asset or a liability? Well, for now, making him more asset and less liability benefited all of them. "I'll tell you what. I'll hook you up with an old buddy of mine that does this for a living now, because, honestly, I don't have the time to get you through the basics. But once you've come up a couple of levels, then yeah. I'd be happy to kick your ass around a mat, make sure you don't get cocky."

Castle stored the contact information in his phone as Esposito recited it. "Listen, I'd like this to be a surprise for Beckett, so let's just keep it between us for now?"

"Good luck with that. The way my buddy trains people, you'll be pretty toned up. At the risk of inviting images in my head that are _just_ not right, don't you think Beckett's going to notice?"

"She is perceptive. Well, in this, maybe I'll just be honest, I'm working on getting in better shape. After all, I'm sure she'd appreciate it if I wasn't gasping after a long pursuit on foot."

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_**Well? Did I live up to your expectations? Please drop me a review, I love feedback.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Another new batch of reviews and followers and favorites, oh my. You're all wonderful!**_

_**Oh yes and the obligatory disclaimer. I don't own these characters. That would be the amazing Marlowe.**_

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Castle peeled the shirt from his body. Sweat had created dark blooms down his chest and back. He stripped out of his shorts, quickly showered, then slipped on a bathing suit. He lowered himself into the hot tub with a groan. He was (barely) living testament to the truth of the cliché 'be careful what you wish for'. He'd hired Esposito's friend Jack to train him, and had specifically requested an accelerated pace, more 'boot camp' than 'weekend warrior'. And he'd gotten it. He gingerly twisted his body so that the pressure of the jets got at all of the sore spots. He flexed and stretched each muscle group that was threatening to tighten up on him. Once he was more or less back to normal, he visited the showers again, this time scrubbing to rid himself of the chlorine smell. He dressed and headed upstairs to the loft. Honestly, he'd used the building's fitness facility more in the last month than he probably had in the first year he lived there. And the private sparring room where he met Jack three times a week was an invaluable benefit.

Entering the apartment, he dropped his workout clothes in the laundry room. In the kitchen he found Alexis hunched over, peering into the fridge.

"Hey, pumpkin!" he greeted her cheerfully. "What are you looking for?"

"Don't you _always_ have whipped cream in here?" she asked. She glanced pointedly at the mug of cocoa that she'd just prepared.

"Uh, we finished it off last night. I'll make sure to get extra the next time I shop. What's the matter, is the dining hall out of it, too?" he teased.

"Laundry day. What did you and Kate use it for, sundaes or cocoa?" she asked innocently.

"Uh, we…" he stammered. The 'Never lie to the daughter' policy was apparently caught in the gears of 'God, she does _not_ need to know what happens in my bedroom'.

Suddenly her eyes widened with the horror of comprehension. "Ew, Daaaad. Forget I asked. Please."

Castle fought the blush that was threatening to creep up his neck as he remembered just _how _the can had been emptied. They'd made a discovery the night they'd begun to be intimate again, when Kate had lured him into the bedroom with small allotments from the can. After the first round they'd been exhausted, but when they woke, Rick had grabbed the can off the nightstand and spurted a healthy dollop on Kate's chest. She didn't squeal as was her habit, but he was too focused on driving her to distraction by licking the sweet white substance off her flesh to wonder why. It was only when she returned the favor that realization dawned: the chill had left the cream. The experience was more pleasurable without the shock of the cold distracting them from the sensual component. They made more frequent use of the dairy product to enhance their lovemaking.

"Dad!" Alexis' impatient tone snapped him to the present. At his clueless look she huffed. "I asked how you were feeling."

"Oh. Better. The last ultrasound showed that everything was all healed up. Thanks to the therapy, I'm as good as new."

"So you'll be going back to work with Kate soon?" The dismay in her tone did not escape him.

"Well, that's up to Kate. But honey, the dangers of shadowing her have never stopped me before and they won't now. I'm just as safe as I can be. Safer, actually, now. In fact…" he eyed her. "I think you, and maybe even your friends, could benefit from some of the skills I've picked up lately. Say the word and I'll gladly have this trainer set up a self-defense workshop for you."

* * *

Beckett gathered the last of the paperwork and tapped it into a neat pile before sliding it into her outbox. She might actually be able to get away for lunch today without feeling guilty. She texted Castle. 'Hungry detective seeks ruggedly handsome author for rendezvous at local sandwich shop'

The reply was swift and uncharacteristically succinct. 'Sorry, can't. Black pawn meeting. See you for dinner. XO'

She suppressed a disappointed sigh and looked around. Esposito and Ryan were out. Maybe she'd just grab a hotdog and then use the spare time to go shopping for a new nightie to surprise him with tonight.

* * *

Castle sighed as he regarded his phone. He wiped some sweat out of his eye and took another swig of water. He hated lying to her but he simply wasn't ready for her to know what he was up to, not until he had built a skill set worth talking about.

"Break's over," a husky voice informed him. He looked up at Chris, who stood with her hands on her hips. Wisps of her blond hair had begun to work free of her braid, and she brushed them back impatiently. Jack had been called out of town on a family emergency, and had given Castle the option of working with another trainer or waiting till he returned. Not wanting to waste time, Castle had chosen the substitute. At first he was concerned about the awkwardness of working, alone, with a woman, but he soon forgot about it. She was _definitely_ not a time waster, and he felt he was learning a great deal from her grueling routine.

He hauled himself back to his feet to finish the session.

* * *

Beckett exited the cab in front of Castle's building. When she'd been in the lingerie shop she'd gotten an idea, so she hurried over to the loft to set up the surprise. Her plan was to leave the skimpy thong, the garter belt, and the stockings, along with a note that she was wearing the matching bra, in places he'd be sure to find them when he returned from what would no doubt be an unpleasant meeting. Gina and Paula were pissed as hell that not being able to type had made him behind on deadlines. He'd probably been summoned there today to be reminded that writing was his *actual* job.

She opted to take the stairs, to walk off the extra chili and cheese that she'd indulgently ordered on her hot dog. The stairwell door was adjacent to the building's fitness center, and she decided to have a peek through the door, to see if any new equipment had been added. The shopping bag hit the floor with a smack when she saw a perspiration-coated Rick smiling charmingly at an equally sweaty blonde woman.

* * *

_***ducking behind furniture* Don't hate me for the cliffhanger, please?**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**You continue to amaze me, you clickers of review and follow and favorite. I am so beyond flattered. Thank you.**_

* * *

Rick glanced up at the out-of-place sound. He spotted a pair of hazel-green eyes, round as saucers and radiating fury. The smile fell off his face. "Ahhhhh shit!" he spat as she turned away. "Stay here, Chris," he instructed as he raced to the door and threw it open. "Beckett…Kate!" he called. She was sprinting through the lobby like the building was on fire. He chased her out to the street. "Kate, damn it, stop!" He caught her by the arm.

She wheeled to slap him but he blocked it, then caught her wrist before she could wind up again. She was stunned by his reflexes, the strength in his grip. He wasn't hurting her, but his fingers were unyielding. Huh.

"I know every guy uses this line, but this time it's actually _true_. It is _not_ what it looks like, and I can explain, prove it. Just come back inside and give me the chance." He followed her glance to the clock in front of the bank. "Give me your phone for a second."

"Go to hell," she snapped.

"If you leave me, I will _be_ in hell," he replied hoarsely. "Please." He let go of her hand and she fished her phone out of her pocket. He thumbed the directory then brought the phone to his ear. "Yeah, Esposito. The shit just hit the fan. Cover for Kate for a while, would you? Thanks, I owe you. Could we save the 'told you so' speech for another time? Great."

He handed the phone back to a livid Kate. "Espo _knows_ what you've been up to?" she demanded.

"Yes," he replied patiently. "Think about that for a second. Do you honestly think I'd still be breathing if what he _knew _had anything to do with infidelity?"

She stared at the pavement, contemplating that. Rick sensed his opening. "Come back inside with me and let me explain, introduce you to Chris."

"How do you know she's still there?"

"Because I asked her to stay and she gets paid by the hour. Not like _that,_" he quickly amended when he saw Kate's eyes bulge.

Beckett begrudgingly followed him back inside. He led her right back to the fitness room door. The shopping bag had been shoved all the way to the wall by the arc of the opening door. He stooped to retrieve it, chanced a quick look inside. Closing his eyes briefly to regain his composure, he tucked the bag under his arm and led her inside the fitness center. Chris was leaning against a counter, studying something on her tablet.

"Chris, I'd like you to meet Kate Beckett."

The woman smiled warmly at Kate. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"Really?" a puzzled Beckett replied.

"Really. Usually I have to knock him on his ass to shut him up."

"I know _that_ feeling," Kate grumbled.

"I have to admit, it took me longer to get him to beg for mercy than most of my clients."

"Holy shit, Chris, the woman is _armed_. What are you trying to _do_ to me?" Castle squealed.

"Should we just show her what we've been doing? I won't even charge extra."

Beckett's head began to ache. "No, you know what? You two finish _whatever_ I interrupted." She wheeled to leave but found her way blocked by Castle, who had, once again, displayed impressive reaction time.

He bent his head and pitched his voice low. "If I prove myself, then tonight you model _this_ for me," he murmured in her ear, tapping the bag with one finger.

"And if you don't?"

"Then you get to walk away. I am _that_ confident."

She met his unflinching gaze. There were slight shadows of guilt, but not what she'd expect. "You're on."

She followed them back into the sparring room, stood against the wall. Again and again, he met Chris in the center and either neatly took her down or held his own admirably. It was only when she used some more advanced moves that she bested him. Her ability to pull him back to his feet, despite being a foot shorter and probably 75 pounds lighter, spoke volumes about her fitness.

They turned expectantly toward her. She shook her head, relenting. "Why didn't you just _tell_ me? Why the sneaking around?"

"Because I wanted it to be a surprise," he replied simply. "Chris, I think you can go now. Tell Jack that if ever he's unavailable, you're a fine substitute." He turned back to Kate. "Go back to work. I'll bring this upstairs, I won't even peek again. Actually, I don't think my heart could take it right now. I will see you for dinner."

She allowed him to give her a peck on the cheek before she departed back to the station house, with his murmured "I love _you_, Katherine Beckett" ringing in her ears.

* * *

_**I love , Love LOVE reviews. Please?**_


	8. Chapter 8

Back at the precinct, Beckett blessed her good luck in finding Esposito in the break room alone. She quietly walked up to where he was sitting, absorbed in a newspaper article. "SO," she began, relishing the way he jumped at the sound of her voice. "It seems as though you and I are overdue for a conversation."

"About what?" he challenged.

"About you being more loyal to Castle than to me."

Before he could answer, another voice sounded from the doorway. "Now I know there's a joke in there _somewhere_ about the kids taking sides when Mom and Dad fight."

"It's not the same, Ryan. You guys have known me longer."

"So that means we should ruin the surprise for you?" asked their resident romantic.

"I was surprised alright." She tried to control the acid in her voice.

"Yeah, Jack's a top notch trainer," Espo acknowledged, oblivious.

"So is _Chris_, apparently."

"Really?" Esposito shrugged. "Never met him."

"_SHE _is very pleasant," Beckett retorted. Ryan's eyes went wide with worry, while Javier's narrowed speculatively. Abruptly he got up to leave, fishing out his phone. "Where are YOU going?" Kate asked.

"To call a buddy about a sparring partner," Esposito shot back with a leer. "If it was good enough for Nikki and Don…"

Ryan came closer to her, seeking to smooth things over. "So you and Castle are ok?"

"We will be, thanks. And don't tell your 'brother' I said this, but he did a good thing. Castle's in much better shape now, which is a win for all of us."

* * *

"Ready?" she called from behind the bathroom door.

"I am so beyond ready," he replied, rubbing his hands together gleefully. The outline of light around the door vanished, and slowly the door opened and she slunk into view. Wicked black heels appeared and disappeared beneath the hem of a sheer black robe. "Oh, and you even wrapped my present for me. How thoughtful," he teased.

"It's probably more than you deserve," she retorted, _mostly_ joking.

He rose and met her in the middle of the floor, taking her into his arms. "I have something to say about that, a rebuttal argument, if you will. In case you didn't already know, you stimulate every _facet_ of my being. My sensuality, yes," he allowed at her wry smile, "but also my creativity, my intellect, my personal growth. How could you think I would ever even consider looking to anyone else to have my needs fulfilled?" He searched her eyes, willing her to truly consider what he was asking. The residual storm clouds of doubt blew away, to be replaced by a sultry glow.

She stepped backward out of his embrace and released the tie on the robe. It fell open to reveal an outfit that made him speechless. Her bra's base fabric was black, with green-gold iridescent embroidered detailing. The scallop-trimmed halter neckline plunged down and gave her cleavage that should be illegal. A matching garter belt held up black lace trimmed stockings. The same lace adorned her barely-there panties. He reached for her eagerly but she took a step backward with a sly smile. "Uh-uh-uh, Castle. You said _model._ I don't think it's ok to _touch_ the models. Guess I'll be the one doing _all_ the touching…"

She gave him a gentle shove and he staggered backward, weak-kneed, until he sat heavily on the bed and let out a whimper. Kate slid her arms free of the robe and turned away to carefully drape it over a chair, buying herself time to get into the proper mindset.

Turning back to him, she caught her lower lip, made that much fuller with a special lipgloss, in her teeth and tilted her head down so that she was looking at him through her lashes. She brought her index finger, freshly polished with a matching iridescent shimmer, to her chin and dragged it down the column of her throat. When her hand reached the notch where her collarbones met, she fanned her fingers out and kept going so that her thumb and pinkie brushed the bra over her nipples. Castle made a choked noise and she turned away from him with a toss of her hair. She strode the full length of the room, giving him a view of her ass, showcased by the thong, and her calves, made all the more gorgeous by the killer heels.

Kate looked over her shoulder to check on him. A telltale twitching of his fingers caught her notice, and she glided back to stand before him. "I said I'll be doing _all_ the touching," she playfully chastised with a pointed glance at his lap. "Don't make me get out the cuffs."

* * *

_**Worth your time? Tell me about it, please?**_


	9. Chapter 9

'So _that's_ the sort of mood she's in, hmm?' Castle thought. He marveled at how drastically things had improved between them in just a few hours. He met her imperious gaze with a grin. "Sounds like disobedience is a _whole_ lot more fun…" His eyes dared her to make good on her threat.

She arched an eyebrow at him and turned away. After all, he hadn't done anything to earn his punishment yet. Just then she felt a single finger tracing along one of the garter straps that graced her rear, then toying with the top of the stocking. Goosebumps popped up in its wake. She twisted back to face him. He was absolutely unrepentant. "You said it yourself. I touch things. Can't seem to stop myself," he said with a shrug.

Her heels click-clacked when they hit the floor in the hallway. Soon she returned with her cuffs hanging off her finger. He held his wrists in front of him, but she shook her head slowly. She straddled his lap and pushed his hands behind his back, looking over his shoulder to see what she was doing. She quickly had his wrists secured. With torturously slow movements, she dragged her fingers from his wrists up his arms to his shoulders, as though she were memorizing the shapes of each improved muscle group. And there were _many_. His hard work to improve his physical conditioning was clear to her now.

Rick concentrated on taking slow deep breaths, lest he hyperventilate due to the excitement. Unfortunately, given the fact that the curve of her neck was right under his nose, each inhale gave him another dose of her perfume. Not helping. Nor was the fact that her chest was pressing against his as she looked over his shoulder. 'That which does not kill us makes us stronger' he recited to himself. Then she shifted her weight back, her hands resting on his shoulders, and her eyes widened as she gained intimate knowledge of the effect she was having on him. She slid her hands up his neck and bent to touch her lips to his. The contact was so much briefer than he hoped, and he (rather than an unmanly bout of whining) growled. Suddenly he realized that his defiance had a major drawback. He couldn't hold her in place as he wanted, and her feline smile told him she knew just what was going through his mind.

"This is called reinforcing a lesson. You're seeing, again, that acting on an impulse carries…consequences." She punctuated her words with another too-brief kiss, then traced his bottom lip with her tongue to drive home the point that she was in complete control of the situation.

Or so she thought. Thus far she'd been delivering her message via his 'little brain' but that statement spoke to 'big brain', which woke up and took the reins.

He leaned back slightly away from her, and she watched the clouds of lust start to dissipate from his eyes, his focus sharpening. "I think you've just inspired a second character…You do make a fantastic villainess. OH, I've got it. I do believe Nikki is about to discover she has an evil twin." Those eyes twinkled merrily at her.

'Well, shit,' she thought. 'talk about a plan backfiring.' Aloud she simply replied, "No."

"Oh, yes."

She gave him her best warning look. "I might just have to do…_things_…to you to make you forget that harebrained plan."

He chuckled. "On the contrary, honey, you'll be doing things to _pay_ me to forget. Same idea, only this version restores the balance of power here. Actually," he continued after a pause, "this idea is too good to forget. And you know, I'll be able to give it my _full_ attention, since I have my writing time back, being on probation as I am."

She mock-gasped. "Extortion? Guess I'm not the only one who can role-play the villain." She heaved a sigh. "You know, I was going to take you back on the team on your merits…but now, I don't know. The position of 'bad cop' has already been filled…"

"Let me out of these cuffs and I'll show you how _good_ I can be."

"What about the touching?" she asked doubtfully.

"Oh, there's going to be plenty of touching, and you know you wouldn't have it any other way."

"Keys are down there," she told him, pointing into her cleavage. "Be a dear and fetch them for me, would you?"

"How am I supposed…oh, I see. Clever minx." He gave a wicked grin and delved in with his tongue, pushing deeper until he found the little key, then latched on with his teeth and pulled it free with a wink, dropping it in her upturned palm.

She climbed off him then and circled around to free his hands. While he was stretching, loosening taut limbs, she retrieved the massage oil from the bedside table. Seeing her intention he eagerly stripped down and lay on the bed. She knelt beside him and worked the oil into his skin, admiring the definition in his muscles, particularly, once she coaxed him face up, his chest. When she'd gotten rid of all of the knots, she smiled and bent to offer him a proper kiss. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and flipping them so that she was on the bottom. He surveyed her outfit. "Making love to you just like this is going to be a fantasy come true, " he informed her. She nodded slowly, embracing the naughtiness of the idea. He crawled up so that his knees were just under her arms. He had to, just this once, feel that cleavage embrace his shaft, then feel her mouth on him. As her saliva moistened the head, it slipped back and forth more easily within the valley of her breasts. He shuddered, fighting for control. He retreated so that they were face to face and urged her to wrap her legs around him. He nudged the thong string aside and plunged into her, again and again while she clawed at his back. When her vocalizations were nothing but an unintelligible string of syllables, he rocked into her one final time, going ramrod stiff. Afterward, he led her to the bathroom, stripped her, and tenderly bathed her, needing to give her a dose of extra 'nice' after all of the 'naughty'.


	10. Chapter 10

**At present count, this story is tied for third place as having the most reviews of any of my stories, and it's in SECOND place for alerts! So thank you, THANK YOU to all of you who had a hand in this. **

* * *

Kate paused, her hand on the doorknob of the sparring room. Grunts of exertion accompanied the sounds of flesh hitting padding, or vice versa. Occasionally speech filtered through, the taunting tones far more comprehensible than the words.

"I can't believe they're still _at_ it!" she said to Lanie. She peeked through the window in the door, in time to catch sight of Castle being tossed, but rolling neatly back to his feet. He squared off with Esposito once more. This time he side-stepped a blow and grabbed the younger man's wrist, pulling him off balance. Rick planted his leg to trip Esposito, sending him to the mat. Both men's shirts were soaked with sweat.

"They're both too stubborn to quit," Lanie replied with a shake of her head. "If we don't stop them, they'll just collapse from exhaustion. You did the right thing calling me. Are you ready?"

Kate nodded, unfastening her swimsuit cover-up. She quietly opened the door to the room. The two women struck a pose in the doorway and cleared their throats in unison.

Rick had been helping Espo to stand, but dropped him when he looked up. "What the hell, man?" Rick pointed wordlessly in response, his throat working, no doubt, to swallow copious amounts of drool. Javier turned in the direction Castle's finger had indicated. There stood Lanie and Kate in string bikinis.

"We were just going to take a soak in the hot tub. Anytime you two are finished with…_whatever_ you're trying to prove here, you're welcome to join us." Kate raised an eyebrow at Rick. She carefully avoided making eye contact with Espo, who was clearly trying to do the same. There was a slight weirdness factor to being so scantily clad in the presence of a co-worker.

The men looked at one another, coming to silent mutual agreement. Espo got to his feet and began removing the protective padding they both wore. As they approached the doorway, Lanie's nose wrinkled. "Shower," she commanded. She closed the edges of her robe, because she could see Castle fighting the temptation to ogle, then stepped aside with a smile as the 'boys' angled to be the first out of the room and into the showers. She followed Kate's lead through the ladies' changing area into the pool room, where the tub resided, then draped her wrap over a chair and stepped in with a delighted sigh.

Kate settled across from her and rested her head on the ledge, letting the warmth permeate her muscles. Momentarily (it seemed), a kiss brushed her temple. Castle settled beside her and slid his arm behind her shoulders. The two couples chatted casually, until the topic turned to the men's sparring activities.

"He's doing alright," Esposito replied when asked about Castle's progress. Given the ex-military man's nature, this was lavish praise in Rick's view. He looked at Beckett, all eager puppy dog.

"Welllll," she drawled. "If you can promise to _try_ not to get yourself _maimed_ again…" she continued, putting levity in her tone for the benefit of their friends. "Then yes, you can come back."

Rick gave her a quick kiss, using his proximity to murmur "I'll thank you more _thoroughly_ later…"

"So, Castle, what's new in Nikki's world?" Lanie asked.

"It's funny you ask. Just last week I was telling Kate about a plot twist I've been toying with."

"I'll show you a twist," Kate muttered darkly. She took advantage of the cover of the bubbles to finger his crotch threateningly. He shifted away from her.

"I've really been thinking of giving Nikki a long lost sister," he continued. "I think I'd name her Victoria."

"Ooh, you could call her Vikki for short and make her the evil twin," Esposito interjected.

"See, he thinks it's a good idea, too," Castle pointed out.

"Fabulous. Tell me something, Castle, would you like to find yourself back on the bench?" she asked with mock sweetness.

"Would _you_ like to be known as a person who abuses her power like that? Because that actually sounds like a Vikki sort of move to me."

And just like *that* he had her in 'checkmate'. She really didn't have any legitimate objections to offer. "Fine, do it if you want," she replied, only marginally successful in keeping the petulance out of her tone. "However, if I catch more crap, you are going to have to make it up to me."

Castle nodded solemnly.

* * *

Kate whimpered softly and stretched her arms over her head, grabbing for the headboard to anchor herself. Rick had been demonstrating his gratitude regarding his reinstatement for, oh…over a half hour now. Hands, lips, tongue, tracing and tasting every curve, worshiping her body. She trembled under the onslaught of sensation and gave herself over, as though taking a seat on an exhilarating rollercoaster ride that she would be powerless to stop. She reveled in the way he commanded the attention of her senses, every nerve ending eagerly awaiting its chance to send a message to the pleasure center of her brain. When he narrowed his focus to a very specific group of nerve endings at the apex of her thighs, she began to squirm, and her whimpers turned to appreciative moans. These sounds spurred him on, made him more enthusiastic in his sensual attack. In moments she realized she was climbing the final 'hill', and then she was in free fall, screaming herself hoarse.

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Happy Castle Day everyone! **_

* * *

Castle's chair gave a soft creak as he sat back in it. The little cellophane pouch crinkled when he fished around inside it with two fingers. After an extended minute, the sound of crunching broke her concentration _again_, followed by more crinkling. He popped his quarry in his mouth, then jumped slightly at his name being barked. He swiveled to meet his partner/girlfriend's impatient glare.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

He held up a single finger, and she waited while a look of heavy concentration accompanied the exaggerated working of his jaw. "Conditioning," he answered after he'd swallowed.

"For _what_?" she asked, confused. "Have you entered an eating contest?"

"Well," he drawled, "there are no other competitors, I'm simply trying to strive for my personal best."

"If you're that bored, go home. Sorry your first day back isn't more entertaining," she retorted. She hated sounding mean, but it was necessary to keep up the illusion for Gates.

"Don't you want to know what I need to be at my best _for_?" he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"I can't fathom how it could possibly matter to me."

"Can't you? Allow me to demonstrate." He extracted something from the packet and held it up between his thumb and forefinger for her inspection. It was brown, roughly the size of a quarter.

"A chocolate ring?" she asked.

"For now." He put the treat in his mouth and his jaw worked again. Finally he stuck his tongue out and displayed a pretzel ring, completely bared of chocolate.

"That's it? Not exactly impressive," she commented drily when he'd eaten it.

He scanned the room before scooting closer. "Imagine the lingual dexterity necessary to get _all _the chocolate out of the inner surface of the ring," he murmured to her before rolling his chair back in place. A blush rose in her cheeks as she did, in fact, imagine. She felt her face get hot, and she ducked her head, pretending to search for something in the bottom drawer of her desk, while she composed herself.

Once she'd succeeded she sat up. "What would possess you to think that's appropriate to _talk_ about, let alone _do_, while we're working?"

"I'm motivated by self interest-"

"There's a shock," she interrupted.

"-to get you out of here as quickly as possible. Now that I've planted that image in your mind, _you,_ I'm guessing, will be motivated, too."

She glanced at the clock in the corner of her computer screen. She had to finish these online training modules before the end of the day, and damn him, his freaking pretzel trick was the elephant in the room. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and weighed all of her reply options, 'That was the exact opposite of helpful' vying with 'Could you possibly have been _less_ helpful' for first place.

Her frustrated sigh exorcised the playful demon in him. "I'm sorry. I'm not helping, am I? Coffee?"

She nodded, grateful he finally got it. When he returned with two steaming cups, she favored him with a smile. She returned her attention to the passage she'd been trying to read. Castle was poking around in the desk drawer nearest to him. "You'd better be planning to restock office supplies."

His lack of guilty response drew her notice yet again. "Oh, no, Castle, that's not… Just give me that, would you?"

He looked up from the notebook he'd been reading, a smug, triumphant grin splitting his face. "No way.

This...These are some far-out theories. In _your_ handwriting. You missed my crazy ideas so much you tried to _channel _me? That…is awesome!" His voice rose in volume at the end and she shushed him, too late.

"What's awesome?" Ryan asked.

"Nothing," Kate hurriedly replied. She grabbed the notebook back from Castle. She scribbled a note in it and returned it to him.

'Shut up and I'll make it worth your while,' she'd written. Castle's features took on a dreamy quality as he contemplated what that might mean, and she snatched the book back, locking it in her drawer.

Beckett finished the rest of the article, and the accompanying exam. She shut down her computer and stretched. When she turned, Castle already had his coat on and was holding hers for her. It was a miracle he hadn't knocked his chair over in his haste to get up. They rode the elevator down with just a few fingers intertwined. On the street he moved to follow her into the cab. She put her hand on his chest.

"Nuh-uh. Go home, grab your bag, come over a little later."

"But I have-" he began to remind her of the clothes already at her place.

"Just…I need to…get ready, ok?" She looked up at him, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth.

He nodded, swallowing convulsively. He backed away, nearly tripping over the curb, and closed the door for her. The last thing she saw was his faint wave.

Rick knocked on her door an hour and a half later. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as he waited. After a few seconds, he used the key she'd given him to let himself in. "Kate?" he called out as he removed his coat.

Her reply was filtered by a closed door. "—right out."

Nodding to himself and rubbing his hands together, he surveyed the apartment. Nothing gave away what she was up to. Well, unless the bottle of wine on the counter was considered a clue. There _were_ two glasses beside it. Deciding to make himself useful he uncorked the bottle with a 'pop'. Unbeknownst to him, that was just the cue Kate was waiting for. He looked up from pouring the second glass as she entered the kitchen.

"Good vintage," he commented, taking in her outfit. She appeared to be wearing a brown bikini top and a long flowing skirt. "What…do you have planned for tonight, exactly?"

"I thought red would go better with…chocolate," she replied, pointing to her top. She darted over and steadied his hand so he didn't spill everywhere. This had the dual benefit of allowing her to be close enough to watch his eyes go wide.

'Frosting,' he thought weakly. 'She painted on a bra with frosting.'

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_**As I have previously said, I value the time and opinion of every single reader. Please leave a review to share your thoughts? Thanks!**_


	12. Chapter 12

Kate chuckled at the priceless expression on Castle's face. It was a comical blend of shock, wonder, and arousal. He eventually forced his gaze away and took a long swallow from his wine glass.

When he looked back up, she was walking, no, sauntering, away from him toward the table. "Where…" He took another sip to coax his vocal cords out of paralysis. "Where're you going?" She gave him a long look over her shoulder. Her lips curled into a teasing smile.

"Why, to set the table for dessert, of course. What sort of hostess do you think I am?"

He tried using his wit, hoping it would distract her from the dazed 'Oh-my-god-this-is-the-most-amazing-thing-to-EVER-happen-to me' look that was no doubt on his face. A man needed a _little_ dignity, after all. "Dessert, huh? We seemed to have skipped dinner…"he quipped.

"Gee and I thought it was the secret wish of every inner child to have dessert first. But if you'd rather be sensible, who am I to argue?" The fabric of the skirt flared out as she twirled and headed back toward the kitchen, purposefully avoiding him. She moved toward the slow cooker on the counter.

"No, no, if the hostess has a plan, far be it from me to mess with it." When he formed the words in his head he was still _trying_ to convey suave confidence, but the slight tremble gave it an undertone of 'please-go-through-with-it-I'm-begging-you'. To hell with dignity, apparently.

Kate grinned then, and for a moment he could swear he felt the warmth of the sun, though the fiery orb had already passed beyond the horizon. She returned to the table and rested her tush on the edge, then with a little hop up she slid so that the backs of her knees were flush with the wood. She tapped the empty chair with her toe. "Please. Be seated," she murmured graciously.

He carried their wineglasses over to the table and carefully set them down, before removing his jacket and shirt. "I don't think a napkin in the collar is going to suffice, do you?" he asked with a wink and smoothly slid into the chair she'd indicated. "The dry-cleaner has looked at me funny ever since the honey incident. Wouldn't surprise me if he's writing a tell-all. He could call it 'Dishing the dirt on celebrities'…Hey! I could offer to help him write it, that way I could keep myself out of it," he rambled. He was faced, literally, with this amazing offering and he was overwhelmed, at a loss as to where to begin.

"What's the matter, Ricky?" Kate purred after a moment of his stillness. Deciding to take matters into, well, her own hands, she slid her hand up her ribcage to one icing-coated breast. Grasping it, she pushed it upward and bent her head. She fought the smile at his incredulous gasp as he realized what she was about to do. She darted her tongue out and traced a path down to her nipple once, twice, _again_, until a clean line of skin appeared. "It's really good. You should try some…"

"You know there's a part of me that might be content to just sit here and watch you do that all night. Then again," he continued hastily as she made to repeat the move, "I'd hate to miss out, seeing as you worked so hard to prepare this for me." He grasped her waist and pulled her toward him, his hands warm, or to be more accurate, _hot_, on her sides. He decided to continue where she'd left off, his tongue broad and flat against the sweet coating on her skin, wiping it away. He was going to end up with a serious sugar buzz at the end of the night. One more reason the wine was a good plan, the mellowing effect. He felt the goose bumps popping up under his hands as cool air met her moistened skin. Her fingers flexed on his shoulders. He latched onto her nipple and worked his tongue over it, alternating circular patterns with up-and-down flicks. Leaning back away from her, he drew the flesh out before releasing it from his lips. She shuddered slightly, her hands digging into his arms, keeping him close.

Kate gasped when he set upon her again, this time following the delicate lines of the 'straps' she'd drawn on by making his tongue spear-like, applying pressure to erase the line in one pass. God, the man was talented once he rose to the challenge. When his mouth reached her shoulder, she cradled his chin and urged him up for a kiss, tasting the sweetness on his tongue. Once their mouths were fused, something seemed to snap in Rick. He stood up and pressed her back so that she lay on the table. He leaned over her, embracing her lips with his, before drawing away. He looked in her eyes and then down to the other, still-coated breast, then to her mouth. His gaze was both hungry and uncertain. He seemed to be weighing his choices, wondering if one if his desires _was_ a choice, and if it was, which approach would get him there. A take-charge order might work, she sometimes responded well to that. On the other hand there was humble request. He _really did_ want…

"Do it again," he heard himself say, his voice husky. Apparently his 'take-charge' persona was doing just that. He only hoped it had good reflexes, in case she _wasn't_ in that sort of mood. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. She blinked slowly and when the lids fluttered up again, 'Naughty Kate' was most definitely looking back at him. Both hands floated up from their relaxed pose on the table, where they'd been enjoying a well-earned rest since weaving through his hair during the kiss. Delicate fingers, pale against the dark brown frosting, cupped and held the flesh fast while her head came up to meet it. This time she skipped the tongue play and went straight to suckling herself, made tiny smacking noises as she enjoyed both the treat and the sensation.

The strain on her neck forced her to drop her head, but not before she'd exposed the pink nipple. She heard Castle growl and move toward her. She started to drop her hands away but he pressed her fingers down with one hand to stay her, make her offer herself to him. He had another agenda in mind for his hands, clearly, as one found the bared breast and the other began to tug at the hem of her skirt. It slid up the inside of her leg. She watched his face, saw his eyes slam shut when he discovered her other surprise of the night. Under the skirt there were no obstacles between his skin and hers, not even hair.

He withdrew his hand and studied the skirt's waistband. When he met her gaze his eyes were nearly indigo with desire. "Wrap-around," she whispered, in answer to his unasked question. Nodding, he found the tie and easily worked it free, sweeping the fabric back. He ran his hands over her curves reverently. "I thought you might like a chance to show off those feats of lingual dexterity." Seating himself once again, he grasped her thighs to hold her still.

Kate gasped as he did, indeed, demonstrate his skill. He slid one finger inside her, then a second, while his tongue worked magic over her. Finally she could stand no more. "Now. Oh God, Castle, NOW."

He made quick work of his pants and briefs, fueled by her desperate whimpers. He grasped her leg, tenderly kissing her calf, then rested it on his shoulder. He repeated the sequence with the other leg, then drove himself into her. The unique angle made her cry out, arching her back in ecstasy. He pressed in with thumb at the point of their joining, massaging in tiny circles in counterpoint to his thrusts, until her inner muscles contracted around him. Only then did he allow himself release.

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	13. Chapter 13

_**Thanks to everyone who reads, favorites, and/or reviews. You're all awesome!**_

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When the aftershocks finally dissipated, Rick tenderly kissed each of Kate's ankles before gently lowering them. He helped her to a sitting position and carried her into the bathroom. Setting her on her feet, he ran the shower until steam billowed and filled the room. She stopped him with a smile and a gentle hand on his arm as he tried to lift her into the shower. "Thank you, but I've got this, and honestly, if my nerves get any more stimulation right now they might just burn out. Tell you what," she continued after a moment of thought. "Go put some water on to boil. I'll have a quick shower, then we can switch and I can finish up dinner."

"Really? You weren't bluffing?"

"Well. I was a little. It wouldn't have been ready then, but it will be soon." She pushed him out of the bathroom and shut the door between them.

Rick quickly donned a pair of shorts and padded into the kitchen to complete his assignment. Sure enough, he noticed a savory smell emanating from the corner where the crock pot sat. He found a saucepan, filled it, and set it on the stove to heat. He was just about to peek under the lid of the cooker when a hand on his rear made him pause.

"Don't start what you won't finish," he warned teasingly. The caress turned to a playful slap. "I _said…" _he gasped.

"Yeah, yeah. Go. Shower," she ordered.

"See, I'm right. You'd make a perfect Domme," he grumbled as he turned around.

"Well, considering how terrible you are at following orders, I guess we'll never know, will we?" she retorted. She tried to hold her haughty gaze, but the stunned way he was gaping at her, like he was trying to figure out how serious she was, cracked the façade into a grin.

"Maybe. We'll see. Now _go_."

Nodding, he hurried past her, eager to show her that he actually could comply. She shook her head and checked on the water. Seeing that it was boiling, she grabbed the gnocchi and dumped it in, along with a dash of salt. By the time he reappeared, dressed in a tee shirt and boxers, she'd drained the little dumplings and stirred them into the stew.

"Smells delicious," he intoned. He grabbed two spoons from the drawer, presenting her with one, then accepted the bowl into which she'd ladled the concoction He followed her to couch, because, really, neither of them could look at the table with a straight face at the moment (or ever again, maybe.)

She settled onto the cushion with the bowl in her lap, then grabbed the remote control for the DVR and began thumbing through her list until she'd selected the most recent 'Temptation Lane'. He eased down beside her and gave his (late) dinner a stir. Chunks of chicken, bits of spinach, and gnocchi appeared through the thick cream sauce. His growling stomach reminded him that man cannot actually live solely on ridiculous amounts of sugar. He hungrily downed a few mouthfuls, humming appreciatively. "This is amazing!" he told her.

Kate was absently eating hers, caught up in the soap opera. She nodded, then gave him a shy smile when she'd processed what he said. When they'd emptied their bowls and set them aside, Kate pulled a fuzzy blanket over their laps and leaned into the warmth of his side. They watched the drama play out on the screen until the lateness of the hour conspired with the oh-so-comfortable feeling of _complet_e satiation and the cozy cocoon they'd spun. Kate's last moment of awareness was that of Rick's head resting heavily on the top of hers.

Rick woke to the sight of a blobby shape bouncing around on her tv screen. The sound of a ringing phone, _her_ phone, startled him. That must have been what brought him to consciousness. She jolted awake when it went off again. "Oh god. What time is it?" she asked with a glance at the beams of sunlight glinting off the picture frame on the wall. She scrambled away from him, frantically fishing in her jacket pocket. "Shit, _shit," _she muttered as she swiped the screen. "Beckett. Ok. No, we- _I'm_ fine," she corrected. "Yeah. Be there as soon as I can."

"Body?" Castle asked from behind her. At her nod he ground the heel of his hand into his eye socket and then glanced over her shoulder at the clock on her phone. "Oh wow. I must be rubbing off on you."

"Don't say 'rubbing'. It gives me flashbacks I can't deal with right now."

Castle mentally saved his smug reply for later and hurried to get dressed. She was stepping into her boots as he strode out of the bedroom, still buttoning up his cuffs. Down in the car, they agreed that she would drop him at a coffee shop near the crime scene and then he would walk the remainder of the distance after picking up their lattes, thus maintaining their cover and staying caffeinated.

He approached the yellow tape, and a uniformed officer lifted it for him with such perfect timing that he didn't have to break his stride. With a nod of thanks, he walked up to Beckett and handed her a cup. Gesturing at the body he asked, "So…?"

"Death by strangulation, that's the easy part. The murder weapon, well… definitely a new one on me."

"Ok, so ligature, not manual. Cables, rope, necktie, scarf, shoelaces, pantyhose, _bra_," he ticked off on his fingers. He pondered and his face lit up. "Dental floss?"

"Close," she retorted. "Marionette strings."

"How can you be that specific?" he asked. Her response was to draw back the shroud.

"Because the killer left the _puppet_ attached."

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_**So this one was more warm and fuzzy, rather than hot and steamy. Did you still enjoy it? You, yes YOU, can share your thoughts with a simple click of the button below. (and typing some words and clicking another button) Thanks in advance!**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Just wanted to take a moment to thank **_**tortzman **_**for being the 200**__**th**__** follower!**_

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Fascinated, Castle slowly sank to a squat, to scrutinize the corpse. The strings had caused deep indentations in his neck. The puppet was a tangle of jointed wooden limbs, painted in garish colors. The cross piece lay on the cement beside the victim's left ear, but one of the eye-screws had pulled free and lay at the end of the string with bits of splinters caught in the grooves.

"I don't think the puppet itself is going to be any help," he said, noting the gold foil sticker common to mass produced imports. "However, if that screw hit the attacker and transferred bits of wood, that could help us. I can tell you that our victim has _no_ respect for his tailor."

"What makes you say that?" asked Ryan, their aspiring snappy dresser.

"Look at the knees. There appear to be pulls in the fabric, like he knelt on something abrasive. That's a crime against textiles." He scanned the area. "No witnesses, of course."

"Nah," Esposito supplied. "If anyone spots two people getting up close and personal, they mind their own business."

"The strings are pulled at an upward angle, it would have had to have been a taller person, most likely male from the strength that was used," Lanie added.

On the way back to the precinct, they theorized about motive. "A puppet is a very interesting choice for a murder weapon. What if it's symbolic? The victim manipulated someone, or was controlling, maybe a tyrannical boss?" Castle offered.

Once they had identified the victim, one Martin Horn, they were able to determine that he was the managing partner at a law firm. They conducted interviews with enough people to determine that they had no shortage of suspects. They began with subordinates, particularly some that he had elbowed aside while climbing the ladder of success. Defeated courtroom opponents would fill next week's interview list, should it become necessary. One candidate already stood out, a paralegal by the name of Greg Murray, who seemed to be Horn's personal whipping boy. This was according to three different sources, including one who'd overheard Murray claim that he'd taken enough of Horn's crap.

Castle's fingers tightened into a fist around an imaginary rope, a leash on his own composure. So long as he held fast to it, his jittery nerves wouldn't betray him. His eyes had been scanning the apartment of their suspect non-stop, and he could feel the fatigue setting in, but he had to remain vigilant. Behind him, he heard Beckett rifling through papers. So intent was he on listening for telltale sounds of trouble approaching them, that her voice speaking his name was an assault on his eardrums

"What?" he replied without turning around. Beckett studied him, the rigidness in his spine, and _knew_. Walking up behind him, she gently grasped his elbow, attempting to swivel him around to face her. It was like trying to move a statue.

"Castle," she said again, compassion filling her tone. She moved herself into his line of sight, noting the way his jaw clenched, the way his gaze flitted to every potential port of entry. "I see what you're doing, but I don't need a bodyguard here. I need my _partner_. I _need_ that guy who looks at things and sees what I might not see."

"That's how, last time…" he seemed to choke trying to recount it. "I _saw_ the danger."

"Yes, you did," she replied patiently. "But that was a freak occurrence. We swept the apartment, there are no hiding places, and uniforms are posted outside. Now. I _can_ do this without you, but I do it better _with_ you. Are you going to help me?"

He smiled then, his eyes saying more than his voice was permitted to within earshot of officers who were not in on their secret. He turned and added his observational efforts to hers. Scanning the bookshelf, he spotted one of his own novels. "Hey, he's a fan," he noted, plucking the tome from the shelf. "I wonder if I signed…"

Beckett turned at his gasp. The book had been hollowed out to create a hiding place for an e-reader. "How dare he desecrate…" he began.

"Really, Castle?" she retorted, pulling out an evidence bag. "Focus, ok? If he had a word processing program, there might be threatening emails on here. Let's get this to tech."

After the evidence had been submitted, they went to grab lunch. Just as they were re-entering the building, Castle's phone went off. He glanced at the screen and grunted, doing a smooth turn back to the street. "Yes, Gina?" he answered flatly.

When he'd completed the call and returned to the bullpen, he found Beckett sitting at her desk, seemingly trying to glare a hole in her computer screen. "Something wrong?" he asked cautiously.

"There was no incriminating evidence on the e-reader. Greg Murray turned up, came in for questioning, apparently he was only hiding it from his roommate who is prone to theft. Then I heard from Lanie. She found some fibers on the knees of the pants, like he knelt on a blanket that was the same color as the pants. CSU found the same fibers on the pavement. So it looks like our assailant did not have to be taller than the vic, they made him kneel to make it seem that way. Good catch, incidentally." He nodded distractedly. "Castle, what's wrong?"

"What makes you think anything is?" he evaded.

"Because normally when I point out how major one of your contributions is, you start begging me for another chocolate badge."

"It's nothing. Gina's on my case to finish some revisions. I need to get home, and it's going to take me all night. Breakfast tomorrow?"

She nodded, extending her fingers for a handshake. He held on an extra beat, gave an extra squeeze, conveying how badly he would miss her.

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_**Apparently there was a problem with the alerts for the last chapter, so if you would be so kind as to let me know if you were alerted to this update, or if you just happened upon the story, I would be most grateful.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to share information about the alert matter. There is a crop of new followers, and that's always exciting to me, so thanks to you folks, as well. **_

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Castle rolled his head back and forth on the pillow, his sleep made fitful by the images of comment bubbles and red font dancing on the backs of his eyelids. Beams of dawn's light had been creeping across his keyboard when he dutifully attached the last document to the email to Gina. (It had occurred to him recently that if he violated his contract and got fired, then he'd have no legitimate reason to be shadowing Kate, and Gates would show him the front door in record time.) After he had finished, he'd texted Kate to say that he was going to bed for a little while, and could they do lunch rather than breakfast. He'd wolfed down a granola bar shortly before collapsing in bed.

In his dream state, he actually felt the cool breeze as he pictured being escorted onto the street in front of the station house, and commended himself on his remarkably vivid imagination. Suddenly there was a hot, wet sensation centered on his member. His brow furrowed. That didn't fit the dream at all, but it sure felt good. Incredible, in fact. He shifted, trying to get comfortable, and the nice sensation vanished, to be replaced by the chill of the air greeting his moist flesh. Before he could ponder that, he felt a pleasantly warm weight on his legs, followed by, _oh_, that heavenly feeling again. He could feel his shaft stiffening as blood rushed eagerly to greet the source of the stimulation through the increasingly sensitive skin. He pictured Kate, her mouth, her tongue, pleasuring him like this. "Feels so good, baby," he murmured.

His whole groin area experienced a vibrating sensation, just like when she hummed around him. 'Nobody's imagination is THAT good' the rational part of his brain piped up. He opened his eyes cautiously, not daring to believe he was that lucky, that a fantasy on every man's top five list was coming true. Sure enough, there was Kate, draped on his legs and working him like she had all the time in the world. She released him from her mouth but kept sliding her hand over him, while craning her neck to the side to place soft kisses on his scrotum. He whimpered and ran his fingers through her hair. Her tongue traced a line up the underside of his shaft and around the head ridge, then she resumed sucking, _hard_. She batted his hands away when he tried to haul her up to him, intensifying her efforts. He could feel the swell building, could tell it would be a tidal wave crashing over him, leaving him tumbling in the surf like a ragdoll. "Kate," he began feebly, reaching for her again. Her response was to lace her fingers with his, anchoring him as he exploded with a groan.

Kate slid backward carefully until her feet touched the floor, seeking a glass of water from the bathroom. When she returned, she stifled a chuckle watching Castle trying to sit up, with all the coordination and muscle strength of a newborn calf. He peeked at her through the fingers he was pressing to his eyes. "It's not funny, woman, were you _trying_ to end me?"

"I sure _finished_ you, anyway," she sassed back.

"Not that I'm complaining, at _all_, but to what exactly do I owe that _very_ special treatment? I need to know, so I'll be sure to do it again."

"Gina called me," Kate began.

"Ok, whoa, that woman's name has no place in this room… Wait, she called YOU?" he asked, truly perplexed.

"Yes," Kate replied simply.

"Well, are you going to elaborate?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Are you going to _interrupt_ me again?" she inquired.

He hung his head, chastened. "No. Right, sorry, proceed," he gestured.

"She called to thank me. Apparently, she feels your improved productivity has something to do with me. I'm the only new variable."

"But I've been shadowing you for years, that makes no sense." He looked at Kate for clarification, but she merely held his gaze, apparently waiting him out. When he didn't arrive at any new conclusions, she heaved a sigh.

"She _knows_, Castle. She was married to you, for God's sake. She said you always did work better when you weren't…how did she put it? 'distracted by an itch that wasn't getting scratched'."

Castle flinched at the wording, then relaxed and looked at her. "You…don't seem as angry as I would expect."

"Well, I didn't exactly love how she phrased it, but I get where she's coming from. After all, she's not a stupid woman. She senses that I'm the reason her second chance with you didn't go anywhere, even if I didn't have an active role. However, the fact that I get to be here, to do _that_ to you, it goes a _long_ way toward taking the sting out. Anyway, since you did the grown-up thing and met your deadline, you got a grown-up reward."

He nodded, an impish, calculating look on his face. "So…what do I get if I'm ahead of schedule?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll think of something. Anyway, as much as I would love to stay, I have to get back, I'm just here on my lunch break." She smirked at the irony of what she'd said. "You coming?"

"Isn't that what I just…oof." His last word was cut off by a flying t-shirt.

"Of course, since you're not as young as you used to be, I'd understand if you need more…_recovery _time," she taunted.

He swung his feet to the floor and stood. "Hah. Funny. Wait till your next day off, I'll show you recovery time." He began to dress.

"Why my next day off?"

He crossed to her, laying a searing kiss on her lips. "Because when I get done with you," he whispered in her ear, enjoyed the way it made her shiver, "you'll be _begging_ for time to recover."

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	16. Chapter 16

_**Thank you so kindly to everyone who has taken the time to review, favorite, or put this story on alert. I am so flattered.**_

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Rick ushered Kate, Martha, and her friend Dorothy ahead of him onto the sidewalk in front of the theater. A warm evening breeze sculpted Kate's skirt into flowing ripples. Having been seated for the last hour enjoying the off Broadway production 'Silence!', they opted to walk to a nearby café for a late snack before parting company. With a cry of dismay Kate pivoted, heading back inside to retrieve her missing purse, but the two elder women were oblivious, reliving their glory days as they strolled down the sidewalk.

Castle had an instant uneasiness from the moment he spotted the man, half way down the block. Hooded sweatshirt, despite the warm night. Hunched stature. Just _off_. Rick started toward the women. The stranger's gaze now appeared to be locked on to the glittering jewelry that adorned Martha's throat. _Fuck_. Rick lengthened his stride, quickened his pace. One meaty hand was grabbing at the necklace, eliciting a cry of protest from her, then the other was wrapped around her wrist in a rather tight grip, if the pain on her face was any indication.

"Hey! Leave them alone." Castle commanded in his most menacing tone, bringing himself up to his full height. They seemed evenly matched, though there was no telling what sort of muscle density lay under the sweatshirt.

"Why don't you mind your business, friend, I'm just talkin' to the ladies here."

"First, since your hearing is clearly intact, you don't need to talk with your hands. Second, the _ladies_ are with me. That _makes _them my business."

"Really." He eyed both women lewdly. " They're sorta past their prime, don'tcha think? Hope they give you a discount."

Castle absorbed what the slimeball was implying and gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. "Take. Your. Filthy. Hands. Off. Her. NOW."

"Oh ho. Big man's got some _guts_." The hand that was grabbing for the necklace vanished into his pocket and reappeared with a switchblade. "Let's see them. Or better yet," the 'snick' of the knife underscoring his malevolence, "why don't we check out _hers._"

"NO," Castle shouted. He brought his fist down on the man's elbow, breaking his hold. A shot to the thug's solar plexus drove him backward. Beckett raced up, circling behind and wrenching the knife away. The assailant trod heavily on her ankle and they both fell. Castle planted his foot on the man's leg. "Twelve pounds of pressure," he stated, his voice flat. "That's all that's needed to shatter a human kneecap. Shall I demonstrate, or are you going to sit quietly while my lady-friend the _detective_ calls her buddies to arrest your ass?" He glanced at an irate Beckett, who was fishing her phone out of the 'too small for a gun' clutch purse she'd just retrieved.

Martha looked utterly stunned, and Kate stared at him, awestruck. The buffoon was completely absent, displaced by this steel-nerved defender. _This_ must have been the man in that room with Douglas Stevens, wringing crucial information (amid screams) from a recalcitrant suspect. Anything for his loved ones, indeed.

The thug swore and writhed. "Be happy it's not _her_ shoe on your leg," the writer said mildly, indicating Kate. "Those heels would probably do a significant amount of damage."

Moments later, a pair of uniforms arrived and placed the would-be mugger under arrest. Rick smoothly lifted Kate to her feet, holding her firmly by the elbow when her ankle wouldn't support her weight. Statements were taken, and Beckett agreed to help with any necessary paperwork in the morning. Taking no chances, Rick summoned a car service to drop Dorothy at her apartment and deliver the rest of them back to the loft. When it rolled up to the curb, he handed his shaken mother and her equally rattled friend in first, then helped Kate in. When he'd pulled the door closed, he coaxed her to put her feet in his lap so that she could elevate her ankle. He stroked it distractedly as he stared out the window at the passing marquees, his face pensive. Not so dispassionate, then, Kate mused, slightly relieved.

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A self-assessment on the couch determined that with a little rest she'd be fine. Rick got her settled with an ice pack, insisted that she take a dose of anti-inflammatory, then wheedled her fondest snack wish out of her and, leaving Martha with her for company, scurried out to the corner store.

Kate let her head drop to the back of the couch with a sigh.

"Hell of a day, huh kiddo?" Martha commented. "It's quite the metamorphosis Richard has undergone…You know though, I can't say I'm all that surprised."

Kate met her gaze. "How so?"

"When he sets his mind to accomplish something, he is tenacious, very focused, driven. I've noticed his physical condition has improved, obviously his new talents are somehow connected to that."

"You're not upset?" Kate asked.

Martha pondered that for a moment. "What any parent wants for their child is that they are _safe_ and they are _happy_. Would I rather he didn't run around getting himself shot at? Certainly. But I can't ask him to sacrifice his happiness for his safety. _No one_ can. If he is that much safer now, I am that much more content. And Kate? I've never seen him happier."

They chatted a while longer until Rick returned, then Martha bade them goodnight and made her grand exit.

He strode in from the kitchen bearing tall glasses of chocolate milk with a plate of cookies balanced on each. Handing her a glass he carefully settled beside her.

"So…" Kate finally broke the companionable silence. "Are we calling that the final exam for your training?"

Rick chuckled. "I suppose, though who knows? Maybe I'll keep working my way through the belt 'rainbow'. It can't hurt to keep acquiring skills, and it will certainly be beneficial in maintaining my fitness. After all, someone around here keeps insinuating I'm getting old," he said with a nudge. "Speaking of that…since it's on record that you were injured, you could easily take tomorrow off..." He set his glass and plate on the coffee table, then slid his arm around her shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

He nibbled on her ear. "If you don't know, then I must be doing it wrong. Apparently I need more…practice." He moved on to her neck. "See, there's another reason for you to stay here."

Kate could feel herself weakening, physically melting against him. She made a last ditch attempt to maintain control over the situation. "But I _am_ injured, aren't you worried we'll make it worse?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

"Oh, don't worry. I think I've got enough imagination to make you _more_ than comfortable."

"Pretty sure of yourself…" she replied with mock skepticism.

"Ok, it was bad enough when you questioned my stamina, but now you're doubting my _creativity_?" he gasped. He gave her a smoldering look, laced with determination. "Oh, lady, that does it. You're not going anywhere tomorrow."

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	17. Chapter 17

_**I had some difficulty getting started on this chapter, largely because I'd set the bar so high, I was worried I couldn't follow through. Then when I tried to begin, scenes from a future chapter simply would not leave me alone until they got written. The good news there is once I get through Chapter 18, 19 will be following fairly quickly on its heels. Once I got that out of my system, I wrestled with this again. The first quarter of it came to me at an almost glacial pace, but suddenly I checked the word count and holy crow, it's huge. By far the longest chapter of this story. So without further ado, I give you, Chapter 17.**_

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He removed his arm and slid away from her, taking their glasses and plates as he stood. After rinsing everything in the kitchen sink he returned to the living room and crouched. Ignoring her protests, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, setting her beside a hassock so that she could kneel on it. Kate gave a hum of approval as she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him down for a kiss. Behind her, his hands were easing down the zipper of her dress, stroking the skin he bared in its wake. Breaking off the kiss, her lips found his jaw, his ear, down his neck. She began to fiddle with his shirt buttons, caressing and teasing as he had done to her. When she reached the last one, she pulled it free of his waistband.

He eased away from her and slid the dress off her arms, leaving it to pool around her knees. His eyes raked greedily over the floral-and-lace of her bra, his fingers skimming gently in contrast. He bent and traced the margins with his lips, bringing one strong arm around her back to support her as she arched into him. Her hand clutched at his shoulder, fingernails leaving tiny crescent indentations. He straightened and lifted her so that the dress dropped free. He set her back on her good foot and proceeded to peel the stockings from her legs. Once they were dispensed with, he ghosted his hands slowly up her body, planting kisses up the center as he went.

"These clothes are in my way," he murmured, sliding the shoulder straps down and releasing her bra catch. The panties were the next hapless victim.

"Hmmm….I seem to have the same problem," she returned, sliding her hands down his fly. She knelt back on the hassock and undid his button and zipper. To save time, she slipped her hands under the elastic of his briefs and pushed them down along with his slacks. Stepping free of them, he lifted her and hooked his hands behind her knees, urging her to wrap herself around him. He pinned her to the nearest wall with his torso and rocked against her teasingly, sucking on her collarbone and palming her ass. All she could do was hold on and worry at his earlobe with her teeth. "Rick. Now. _Please…" _she whispered.

He pulled back and slid into her, loving the feel of her intimate embrace. He nipped along her neck, losing himself in his exploration of creamy skin, until she wriggled impatiently. He stroked into her, withdrawing almost completely each time, until her vocalizations grew desperate. He leaned back far enough to slip a hand between them, finding a nipple and rolling it firmly between his fingers. She shattered around him with a cry.

Her forehead dropped onto his shoulder as her breathing returned to normal. She felt him gently peeling her away from the wall and carrying her…somewhere. She should have been too busy trembling from the aftershocks to care where, but her inquisitive nature was not silenced that easily. "Where're we goin'?" she mumbled.

He attempted an answer, cleared his throat and tried again. "Change of venue, love." As awareness began to return she noticed that the trembling seemed more intense, almost multiplied. She finally realized that some of the shaking was emanating from Castle's arms, finally tiring of holding her weight up, though he'd never admit there was any validity to her jibes about his stamina.

He carefully lowered himself onto a straight-back chair, settling her astride his lap, still joined. His hands now free to roam, stroke, stimulate, it wasn't long before she began to shift against him again. He withdrew from her and helped her turn around so that her back was to him, then coaxed her (with little persuasion) to lower herself onto him again. Now she was able to brace her hands on his knees and control the speed and angle. His hands bracketed her hips, sometimes sliding up along her spine and forward to graze her breasts as they bounced. As a reward, she swiveled her hips and wrung a groan from him. He traced her hipbone around to the crease of her thigh, then to the point of their joining. Sweat broke out along her spine when he found what he was looking for, flicking it with his fingertip. Her keening abruptly broke into a rapid fire stream of "OhgodohgodohgodohGOD…soclose…soclose… socloseYEEEEESSSSS." At last he let his control slip away, let the orgasm roar through his body, setting fire to every neuron, as he held her to him.

His next challenge was to get them both to the bed, without admitting that his new muscle strength did not _actually_ equal youthful vigor. Sensing his predicament, Kate slid forward, taking exquisite care for both their sakes. She stood and limped to the bathroom, tossing a "Be right back" over her shoulder.

Slumping over with relief and fatigue, Rick forced himself to his feet. He pulled back the covers and crawled in, then lay back with his fingers laced behind his head. He dozed off still planning his next move.

Hobbling out of the bathroom, Kate paused to take in the scene. Rick, stretched out, his lips curved in a smile. She waited a beat for him to acknowledge her presence, and when he failed to do so, she called softly. "Ok, stud, ready for round three?" His smile grew wider, but as he shifted and snuggled against the pillow she realized he was completely knocked out. She had a good mind to tease him, but he'd worked so hard to pleasure her. She gingerly made her way to the bed and slipped in beside him, eventually letting his even breathing lull her to sleep.

* * *

She awoke to pitch blackness, though her internal clock was telling her she should be seeing morning light. No one's blackout drapes were _this_ good. She waited for her eyes, and the rest of her senses, to adjust. Her next awareness was of something soft brushing her skin, over and over, but never in the same area. It was pleasant, but she really wanted to know the source. She could also smell something sweet, even _taste_ it. Her hand brushed under her nose, and in doing so, her knuckle rubbed against…fabric?... in the area of her cheek. Feeling around she realized she was wearing a sleep mask, though she couldn't recall donning one.

"Tsk tsk," Rick chided from above her. "No peeking, you'll ruin the surprise. Just lay back and enjoy." Trusting him fully, she complied. The brushing was methodical. It had begun around her feet, and by now it was tracing patterns on her hips, now her belly. She arched when the sensation reached her breasts, groaned lightly when it didn't linger. Down her arms, up to her shoulders and finally, her neck. There was the sharp tap of glass being set on a hard surface, then his weight left the bed beside her. Now began a new round of ministrations. Kisses, nearly as soft as the brush, feathered over the arches of her feet, the soles, her toes, up her ankles (gently, gently on the injured one).

Sometimes a light licking would replace a kiss, tracing long lines along her shin, tickling her knee. When the entire lower half of her body had been treated thusly, she spoke. "Castle. I know your mouth is busy, but if I can't see what's happening, the least you could do is provide a little narration."

His low chuckle rumbled the bed. "There's a switch, you _want_ me to talk? And for the record, I thought the silence added to the sensuality."

Damn him. He was forcing her to admit what his husky, sexy voice did to her. "You're a writer, not a performance artist. Words are your craft. Use them. Please."

"Well, as you pointed out, I write, which means I must research, and since _you_ are the subject of my work, I decided to make a _thorough_ study. To ensure that I didn't miss a single spot, I covered all of you, and am currently working on removing that covering, inch…by…inch." This last phrase was punctuated by kisses along her belly.

"Covered me. With something sweet smelling?" She swiped her finger along her arm and then licked it. "Powdered sugar?"

"Yup," he replied proudly. "I turned you into my very own doughnut. You know, since it's morning." She lifted the mask, squinting against the sudden light, and lifted her arm in front of her face. Sure enough, tiny white particles adhered to the hairs of her arm. Only him.

"Now, I'd like to continue my study." He grasped the mask and pulled it down. "Shh, I know. If you can't have sight, you want sound. I might not let you live this down, though. Ok, where was I? Ah, yes, right there. See? This was brilliant." He kissed, licked and nipped his way across her stomach, shifted up and reversed direction. "So beautiful, what a lovely rosy glow." Now he made broad trails with the flat of his tongue, clearly in a hurry to get to the 'good parts'. The tension within her had been slowly growing, along with her anticipation, and she nearly imploded when his lips traced over her nipple, sucking lightly, then harder.

"I-I think you got everything."

"Hmmm I need to be sure. Lots of texture there, lots of information to be gathered."

He repeated the process on the other side, pinning her hands down when she tried to push him away. He worked his way up, until she could feel his breath washing over her face, could smell the sweetness he'd taken in. He captured her lips, coaxed them open, stroked his tongue over hers.

"Mmmm," he moaned as he pulled back, licking his lips.

"You didn't put any sugar there, you know," she commented once she'd recovered her oxygen supply.

"I know. I just enjoy kissing you. Ok, break's over, back to work." He grabbed her hand, swirled circles across her palm, then trailed soft kisses up the inside of her wrist, pausing to feel her pulse fluttering beneath the thin skin. He worked up to her shoulder, then across her collarbones and down the other arm, finishing by sucking on her fingers.

"Now the best part," he murmured, shifting down to her waist. "The moist…center." He delved within her folds with his tongue, sucking and nipping, stroking and probing, until she went rigid with ecstasy.

While she was coming down, he shucked his robe (the one he'd shrugged on in the unlikely event that his mother was up while he was milling around the kitchen hunting for powdered sugar and basting brushes.) He went into the bathroom and started the tub filling with warm water.

Kate favored him with a dopey, glazed look when he returned to the bedroom. He helped her to her feet and led her into the bathroom. "What, you're not going to do the other side?" she teased.

"Not today. I'm not sure my blood sugar could take it," he replied. He helped her into the tub, then attentively lathered her up with a soft cloth, making sure to cleanse away everything that had been left behind by their lovemaking. As he rinsed away the suds, coating her contours in glistening water, he felt himself hardening again. He grinned when he saw the wide eyed, dark-pupiled, knowing look on her face. He kissed her, deep and slow, then urged her onto her knees and forward, so that she was bracing herself against the end of the tub. He climbed in behind her, mindful of her foot, and banded one arm around her midsection, pulling her close. She writhed as he nibbled and sucked on her ear, neck, shoulder, all the while ghosting his hands up and down her body, finding each and every sensitive place. She began to reach blindly behind her, seeking to guide him to where she needed to feel the fullness. He pushed inside her and she cried out with relief. He started off with slow strokes, but she urged him on, faster, harder, until her muscles seized around him. His groans mingled with her wails, echoing loudly around the bathroom, until they slumped forward, his cheek resting on her shoulder blade.

In a few moments they disentangled themselves, rinsing off with the shower wand before climbing out of the tub. Wrapped in fluffy robes they collapsed back in bed, cuddling, barely conscious. Kate stroked Rick's cheek drowsily. "Best sick day ever," she mumbled.

Rick hugged her just a little closer and fell asleep with a smug smile.

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_**So? Like, dislike? Please review?**_


	18. Chapter 18

**_Ok I had a heck of a time with this. It's HARD writing mystery stuff. Andrew and Terri deserve major props for cranking out twenty-something mysteries. I hope I did ok..._**

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Beckett leaned against her desk and studied the murder board. A photo of Martin Horn had been affixed with an adhesive clip. Beside it hung a CSU snapshot of the puppet, including an enlargement of the screw with the sawdust, and another of the secluded grove of the park where the body had been found. In the perpetrator section, thanks to the new information about the victim kneeling, there was a note '5ft-6ft', which basically only eliminated a fraction of the population of New York City. Lists containing names of employees and opponents decorated the lower half.

She consulted the printout of his schedule for the days preceding the murder, then reviewed her notes from the interview with Horn's secretary. He had recently won a case for which an expert witness had been used, and the opposition had filed an appeal on the grounds that said witness had an alleged stake in the outcome of the case. She booked an appointment to talk to this witness, one Donald Brooks.

Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes and stretched. When she opened them, a white paper coffee cup had magically appeared on her desk, and one grinning writer had appeared in his chair. Smiling back, she sipped from the cup gratefully and brought him up to speed, concluding with "Come along on the interview with me?"

Castle nodded his agreement. After a few minutes of preparing notes, they headed out to her car. Rather than complain about her always wanting to go first, he hung back and treated himself to the view of her shapely rear that was no longer a source of torment. 'Seeing comes before wanting', indeed.

"I can feel you staring, you know," she tossed over her shoulder.

He waited until they were safely out of earshot to reply, "You _could_ feel me doing a hell of a lot more than _look. _Just say the word_."_

"Castle. Work. Boundaries."

At Donald's office they learned that he had been hired because of his expertise regarding architectural history. The new owners of a building wanted to renovate it, but the historical society had filed an injunction stating that it needed to be preserved. "Mr. Horn hired me to testify that the building was not, indeed, significant, allowing the renovation plans to move forward."

"The old moldings and fixtures, what happens to those?" Castle queried, a telling gleam in his eye.

"Well, I suppose they would be purchased by an architectural salvage firm and used to restore buildings that are of more significance. "

"A firm like the one your son owns?" Castle pressed, indicating the photo on the man's desk. "I recognize him from one of the Garden and Home series. A better cure for insomnia I've never found," he added as an aside to Beckett.

"Well, Mr. Horn would have gone before the bar for suborning perjury…but it's loss of license, not a death sentence," Kate mused.

Back at the precinct, a review of the ownership of the house in question turned up a familiar name: Murray.

They brought Greg in so that they could question the man themselves. He stoically maintained his innocence, until Castle started fishing for the 'story'. "That house belonged to my great-great-great- great-grandparents. It was a stop on the underground railroad. How can anyone say that's not _significant_? But Mr. Horn, I heard him on the phone to the real estate guy, about how he would make the problem go away. When I saw the papers, I just…he had to pay. So I followed him, told him there was one last thing he needed to sign. He hardly ever looked at me, you know, like I wasn't worth the effort? It was so easy to take out the knife. I made him kneel. Then I just…made _him_ go away.

Castle and Beckett exchanged glances. "And what did you do next?" she asked carefully.

"Stabbed him."

"Would you excuse us for a moment?"

They left the interrogation room. "Obviously he's lying, but to protect whom?"

They held him for questioning, and in his personal effects there was a wallet. Among the standard pictures and credit cards, there was an old news clipping about a puppet show. The caption read 'Greg Murray and his grandfather Anthony Jefferson.'

They obtained a warrant for Mr. Jefferson, now in a wheelchair, and found sawdust in the pocket of his shirt that they knew would match the particles from the screw.

They briefed Captain Gates, who said she'd make a sentencing recommendation with the DA.

All that was left was a large volume of paperwork, especially associated with a false confession. Castle abandoned Beckett at her desk, claiming he'd suddenly gotten some ideas that he HAD to get down right away.

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_**So? Thoughts?**_


	19. Chapter 19

****CH19 So, if anyone were paying attention to the ratings guidelines, (specifically, no crazy explicit Mature Audience stuff) this would TOTALLY be the chapter they'd bag me on. Consider yourself warned. **BDSM****

* * *

Kate heard whistling even before the key turned in the lock. Setting her book aside, she watched Rick enter the loft. He'd texted her to let her know he'd be out shopping when she got off work, but to make herself at home. Clearly he'd been successful, for tucked under his arm was a flat box that appeared large enough to hold two or three shirts. Delight radiated from his features when he spotted her. Eagerly he laid the box in her lap, dropping a kiss of greeting on her lips.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A present, obviously."

She lifted the lid and examined the contents. Her eyes flicked up to watch him bouncing on the balls of his feet. "For me, or for _you_?"

"Uh, both? Ok, really more for me I guess."

"Then maybe _you_ should wear it."

"Aww, c'mon, Beckett. You _said_ I'd get a reward." He nodded at the printout of the email from Gina, taped to the inside of the lid, congratulating him on beating his deadline by two days. "I'm just saving you the effort of coming up with one. And besides, isn't it perfect? I mean, think about it."

Kate explored the box. A black leather bustier lay on top. Beneath it, matching hot pants. Fishnet stockings. When she lifted those, an object at the bottom came up too. The beaded strands of a flogger were caught in the mesh. Beside the spot that had vacated lay a paddle and some binding straps. She sighed. As a reward for demonstrating his obedience, he wanted…to prove he was capable of further submission. It actually _was_ pretty ironic.

"You know, ever since the 'Caramel' case I've known you have a little masochistic streak, but until just now I hadn't taken it seriously." He cocked his head to the side, looking slightly alarmed, waiting for her to elaborate. "I told you I didn't think you could handle the sight of me in tight black leather, yet here you are, willing to endure _whatever_, with the likely inclusion of not being permitted to _touch_, while I'm dressed in _this_? You're _absolutely sure_ this is what you want? Because this…this goes beyond playing with my handcuffs."

"I know," he replied simply. He let her search his face, knowing what she'd see was implicit trust. Finally she nodded. Rubbing his hands together, he headed toward the bedroom.

"Excuse me, where do you think you're going?" she called.

"To…" he faltered, pointing at his bedroom, then the box.

"Uh, no. First, do you really want to risk being visited by your _mother_, or your _daughter_?" She smirked at his shudder. "Second, whatever you think of me, I actually need a little bit of time to get into _that_ mindset. Third, if you think this is happening on _your_ terms and timing, then you've _really_ got the roles backwards."

* * *

Kate stalked up to Rick's nude form and began to murmur in his ear. "The day we met you told me you'd be happy to let me spank you. Over the last four years there have been countless times when I've been tempted to take you up on it. Now we'll test your commitment to that offer. What is the safe word?"

"Apples."

"Ma'am," she prompted. Kate trailed the flogger down the deep groove of his spine. His muscles jumped and bunched. His outstretched arms, bound to the bedposts, flexed experimentally. Otherwise he stood motionless, facing the foot of the bed, as she'd instructed right before she produced the leather straps.

"Apples, Ma'am."

She moved to his left side, pivoting slightly so that she was viewing his profile. Her left hand slid around his ribcage and up to caress his pectoral muscles. She never got tired of showing his new physique some appreciation. With her right she flicked the flogger lightly across his scapula. She allowed her left arm to drop so that she was tracing his well-defined six-pack. The leather fronds glanced across his mid-back in parallel.

Leaning in close she murmured, "Is your brain still working? Can you guess what comes next in the pattern?"

Castle closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Eyes open."

"Yes, Ma'am," he assented, but she could see the effort it took to comply.

Moving still lower, one hand slid over his member, the other delivered a blow to his buttocks. He bucked and grunted, not from pain (she'd tested the thing on herself) but from the stimulation. She maneuvered around to his other side and repeated the cycle.

He shivered, knowing he was going to experience an embarrassing loss of control if he didn't do something _soon_. He resorted to his twin fortes, gathering information and teasing. "You know, you weren't kidding when you said there was a lot you weren't telling me. Should I be concerned about how good you are at this?" he queried. Her response, after a pause that almost had him break out in a nervous sweat, was a rap with the paddle, hard enough to leave a pink mark on his hind cheek. "Did I say 'good'?" he gasped. "I meant _exquisite_."

"I thought you were better than this at non-verbal communication," she murmured, somehow threading silk _and_ steel in her tone. Another, sharper sting followed. "You _should_ be concerned with the fact that you weren't given permission to kiss my ass." She underscored the last word with a third blow.

"_May_ I, Ma'am?" The words may have been deferential, but the tone was classic Castle, eager and incredulous.

She decided the worst torment would be to _not_ give him what he wanted, though…why deprive herself? "Maybe later. For now, silence, or I'll revisit _all_ those times I've wished I had this tool at my disposal."

She set the paddle on the bed and moved behind him, her hands sliding around his hips. She grasped his shaft, stroking up and down. "Watch," she commanded softly. He bowed his head and she thought he was intent on her movements, until she snuck a peek while nibbling on his ear. His eyes were squeezed shut. A pinch to his ass had them flying open again. She removed her hands and backed away, leaving him to wonder what would come next.

"Ok, now, these are words you should be familiar with from your very diverse arrest record. You know, the one that started the whole spanking conversation? Legs apart."

He complied, going _very_ still. She wrapped one arm around his waist again, this time to keep him in place. From the rear she inserted a _well_ lubricated fingertip of the other hand and probed until she found what she sought, a chestnut sized gland in the front wall. He jumped in shock, but his knees began to buckle as she massaged the area. She resumed stroking with the hand in front, but pulled away as his whimpers grew louder and his legs trembled.

"You are evil…_ma'am,_" he groaned through gritted teeth.

"You haven't seen anything yet." She adjusted the fasteners on the bedpost, sliding them down. Easing the zipper of her shorts down and stepping out of them and her panties, she climbed onto the bed and sat on her heels. His eyes were the intense blue of a gas flame, and she could almost feel her skin blister under his gaze. She freed her breasts from where the bustier _barely_ restrained them, brushing her palms across them until the nipples stood erect, moaning softly. She slid her hands down her body, toying with herself, before burying one finger deep into her moist crevice. At his strangled noise, she commanded him to kneel. Prompted by the heavy 'thud', she scooted forward until she was positioned before him, draping her legs over his shoulders so that she was open to him.

"Yes, _ma'am!" _he replied to her expectantly raised eyebrow. Ducking his head, he began to feast on her. Thrilled, apparently, to finally be on the active side of this interaction, he began to carry her to dizzying heights, solely with that talented mouth. With a cry, she flexed the muscles in the backs of her thighs, arching up, _closer_, so much closer, temporarily surrendering control to his expert ministrations.

Done with their game, and needing _more_ of him, she pulled away and sat up. She kissed him, tasting herself, then slowly released the restraints. He shook the circulation back into his arms, all the while eyeing her speculatively. She shifted backwards toward the head of the bed while he stalked her like prey, quickly imprisoning her beneath him. He commenced his own campaign of sensual torture, kissing her deeply, then nipping and sucking at every place he knew drove her wild, freeing her from the remains of the outfit along the way, while her fingernails etched patterns on his back. He drove into her core and in short order set a frenzied pace, desperate for release. Her quivering was signal enough to send him into free-fall.

* * *

_**So...yeah. Maybe a little inspiration from a certain popular trilogy with references to numbers and/or colors in the title. This chapter grew over the course of a week or two of re-reading, adding, polishing, so I hope you all feel it was worth the effort.**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Here we go, ladies and gentlemen, the last chapter. Enjoy!**_

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Castle was standing in front of his chair, looking over his shoulder, when a _very_ nearby voice murmured "Good morning." His head whipped around and he came face to face with Beckett. Startled, he tried to take a step back, but since the chair was already brushing the backs of his knees, he fell heavily into it. He winced with discomfort due to the tenderness generated by the previous night's activities and his gaze flew up to her face to see if she'd noticed. She smirked knowingly but made no comment. He made a mental note to get rid of the paddle as soon as possible. As for the rest of her outfit, well, that had the potential to really spice up their interactions. He was certain that the line between 'asking nicely' and 'begging' was going to be crossed many times in their future.

Later on that day, they were on the way to question a suspect. They spotted him entering his apartment building just as they approached. "Peter Walters," Beckett greeted. "We have some questions for you." Walters' eyes widened with fear and guilt. He spun on his heel and darted down an alley. He slipped through a gate and locked it behind him. Castle immediately dropped to a squat and cupped his hands for Beckett to step into. He boosted her over the gate then employed his new upper body strength to climb over after her. She was pursuing the suspect at a hard run. He began to give chase, reflecting on how, previously, such activity took a physical toll on him. Rich foods and a comfortable lifestyle had diminished the stamina of his youth, so that during his very first pursuit he was easily winded. His lungs and his legs had burned every time he gave chase. Now, however…with long strides he passed Beckett, grabbed the suspect by the collar, yanked him off balance and took him down. "It's not polite to turn your back on a lady who wishes to speak with you," he admonished Walters.

Beckett made the arrest and they walked him back to her patrol unit. She glanced sideways at Castle, who, despite the distance they'd covered, wasn't even out of breath. He met her look proudly, happy he'd done well when it counted. Once they handed the suspect over for processing, she beckoned him to the breakroom, where she fixed him a cappuccino with a smiley face in the foam.

When evening fell, they headed back to his loft. As they prepared dinner together, he used her as a sounding board to work out some plot details for his next chapter. Martha and Alexis came in to find them good-naturedly bickering in front of his smart board, half eaten meals cooling on the table. The partners were so absorbed in the discussion that the addition of two people in the apartment went unnoticed. Martha observed that the looks passing between them were growing increasingly heated. She dragged her grand-daughter back to the kitchen before she witnessed something that would scar her for years.

"How long do you suppose it will take for him to make it official?" Alexis asked the actress as they warmed the leftovers.

"Not long now. He already has a ring. I chanced upon it when I was gathering supplies for Katherine's injured foot," she confided. "Now, darling," she soothed over the younger woman's shocked gasp, "don't say anything. They'll find the right moment. After so many trials and tribulations, the universe owes them some calm seas."

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_**So there you have it. I've told the story I set out to tell. I also *may* have left the door open to a sequel. I'd like to thank each and every one of you who took time to review or add me/the story to favorite or alert lists. I am honored. Stay tuned, I have some other little plot bunnies that I'm trying to nurture into full stories.**_


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